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Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Today I'm
promoting the first two books in The Healing Edge Series (paranormal
romance/romantic suspense) from Diversion Books. The first book, ALL THE BROKEN
PLACES, came out in 2/2016, and the second book, ALL THE WOUNDS IN SHADOW, is
releasing on 8/23/2016. The third book in the series is coming out in
Spring/Summer 2017.

Title: All the Broken Places(The Healing Edge #1)

Author: Anise Eden

Cate
Duncan is a promising young therapist, dedicated to her work. But after her
mother’s suicide, she is seized by a paralyzing depression. To save her job,
Cate agrees to enter a program with Dr. Angeline MacGregor, run by her stern
son, Ben, and housed in a repurposed church. Cate doesn’t quite understand what
the program entails, but she soon learns that the skills she will develop there
may not only help her learn how to cope with her own problems, but will also
lead her to a much greater purpose.

The
MacGregor Group is a collection of alternative healers whose unconventional
approaches include crystals, aura reading and psychics. They know that their
life’s work invites skepticism, and welcome the chance to prove naysayers
wrong. But they need the unique abilities that Cate can bring, and as she
slides ever closer to her own abyss, they will do everything in their power to
protect Cate from those who wish her harm―including herself.

A powerful
novel of suspense and a wildly inventive start to this paranormal romance
series, ALL THE BROKEN PLACES engages readers with its
striking blend of the supernatural and the psychological.

“Just so I have a baseline,” Vani asked, “what do
you already know about parapsychology?”

I bit my thumbnail and considered whether to be
honest or diplomatic.

“Go ahead,” Ben quietly urged. “What you really
think, remember?

I shot him a “don’t push me” look. “Okay, well,” I
began, “all I know is that in grad school, they said it was a pseudoscience
that kind of died out in the Eighties. They also said that a lot of scam
artists were involved, and it had ties to the occult. And I’ve seen that
reality TV show Ghost Trappers; they mention parapsychology on
there sometimes.”

“Not bad,” Vani said. “Ghost Trappers is
the extent of many people’s exposure. Allow me to tell you what parapsychologyreally is.”
She turned to the board and wrote the definition as she spoke it. “It’s the
scientific study of psychological phenomena that cannot be explained by the
known laws of nature.”

So it was an actual field of study? I sat up
straighter in my chair. “You mean things like aura reading, and being an empath?”

“Exactly.” Vani pointed to the hand she’d drawn.
“There are five categories of these phenomena. The first is psychokinesis, in
which the mind interacts with other people or objects from a distance. There
are several sub-categories—the most well-known being telekinesis—but the only
one we use here is psychic healing, which encompasses empathic submergence and
empath healing.”

“Empath healing is the technique I told you about
earlier,” Ben added.

“Right, I remember,” I said, trying to look cool
rather than incredulous. “But wait, telekinesis? Isn’t that moving things with
your mind?”

“Yes, although the jury’s still out on whether that
exists,” Vani said. “Personally, I’ve never seen any evidence of it.”

“That’s because it’s bogus,” Ben grumbled.

Kai tsk-tsked. “Well, aren’t we judgy
this afternoon.”

“As I was saying,” Vani said crisply, “that’s the
first category.” She wrote “psychokinesis” along one finger of the hand. “The
second category is clairvoyance, or the ability to see and know things about people
or objects that others can’t. Aura reading fits in here, along with your other
empathic gifts.”

In answer to my questioning look, Ben said, “Your
abilities to pick up on other people’s emotions and to form the filaments you
told us about.”

I nodded, feigning comprehension.

Vani wrote “clairvoyance” on the second finger.
“Third is mediumship, or the ability to communicate with the spirits of the
dead. I know you must have heard of that, Cate.”

“Yes.” Those scam psychic hotlines—and any number
of scary movies I’d watched in high school that featured psychics sitting in
dark rooms, wearing turbans and hoop earrings and staring into crystal balls.

Kai held out his arm and pretended to examine his
fingernails. “That’s my area of expertise, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh, wow.” I forced myself to smile and nod. Kai, a
medium; that seemed to fit. Anyone who believed they could talk to the dead
must have an extremely fertile imagination, and Kai definitely had one if he
believed in crystals and totems. Not that I doubted Kai’s sincerity, just his
sense of reality.

Title: All the Wounds in Shadow(The Healing Edge #2)

Author: Anise Eden

For fans
of Karen Robards and Shiloh Walker, Anise Eden brings us the mesmerizing sequel
to her paranormal romantic suspense novel All the Broken Places.

Cate’s
enemies aren’t just surrounding her―they’re inside her head.

Therapist
Cate Duncan has just accepted a job with the MacGregor Group, a unique
collective of alternative healers. She’s excited by the prospect of honing her
empathic healing techniques among others like herself―aura readers, telepaths,
crystal healers, and more. The fact that Cate just started dating Ben, her
magnetic new boss, is an added bonus.

Before
Cate can settle into her new routine, the poisoning of a prominent
neuroscientist draws the entire MacGregor Group into both a federal
investigation and an even more insidious threat. Protected by Ben’s former
Marine Corps unit, Cate and her colleagues must use their alternative healing
methods to solve the crime as their patient clings to life.

The
responsibility of discovering crucial information falls to Cate and her
parapsychological powers. But for Cate, unraveling the mystery means reopening
wounds that had just begun to heal―and in the environment of the Marine Corps
unit, differences between Cate and Ben become clearer, straining their budding
romance. When a new crisis looms, Cate must trust in her colleagues’ gifts and
the strength of Ben’s love, finding the courage to confront her deepest and
most terrifying demons―or her own life will be at risk.

In my dream, only the crabs’ lives were in
jeopardy. Mom and I chose a spot on the pier that was shaded by a nearby oak,
hoping for some relief from the humid heat. The buzzing and clicking of
crickets and cicadas swelled as the summer afternoon ripened.

Mom jiggled the string with the chicken neck tied
to the end, making it dance just beneath the water’s surface. “Should I pull it
out so you can check it?”

“Ew, gross!” I grimaced. “No thanks. I believe
you.”

Suddenly, her whole body tensed. “Look, there’s
one!”

The water was green and nearly opaque with algae.
Staring down, I could just make out the ghostly limbs of a blue crab swimming
up toward the bait.

“Wait until he’s really absorbed in what he’s doing
and then scoop him up,” she murmured. “Not too quickly, though. You don’t want
to scare him.”

“Right.” Once the crab started attacking the
chicken neck, I slid the net beneath him and slowly lifted it to the surface.

“You got him!” Mom jumped to her feet. “Pull him
out, and let’s have a look!”

“He feels really heavy!” We exchanged smiles of
victory as I raised the dripping net up to eye level.

“Oh, no,” Mom said. “It’s beautiful, a great catch.
But we have to throw it back.”

“Don’t say that!” I moaned. “Why?”

“It’s a female. It’s poisonous.”

I examined the crab. She was right: it had a full,
rounded apron. With a sigh, I tossed the crab back into the water. “Females
aren’t poisonous, Mom, just illegal to catch. You know that.”

“Whatever you say.” Mom walked over to the edge of
the pier and turned around to face me. “I have to go now. Don’t follow me.”
Before I could even grasp what she was doing, she had folded her arms across
her chest, closed her eyes, and tilted her stiffened body backwards into the
water.

“Mom!” I leapt forward, reaching the edge of the
pier just as she hit the surface with a sharp splash. Remembering my lifeguard
training, I got down on my belly, lay on the wooden planks, and thrust my arm
into the water. But she was already out of reach.

I grabbed the crab net and plunged the handle down
towards her, but she kept her arms folded, eyes closed. “Mom, grab the handle!”
I cried out, but she kept sinking. Within seconds she was nothing more than a
whitish blur.

“Don’t worry! I’m coming!” Screw lifeguard
training, I thought as I kicked off my shoes and prepared to go in after
her. But just as I was about to dive, something dragged me backwards by the
waist.

I looked down to find a man’s arm wrapped around
me—a man’s arm in a blue suit jacket. A familiar voice said, “Oh no you don’t.”

“Ben, let go of me!” I struggled to free myself
from his hold. Then I realized that I was yelling out loud, awake and in bed,
thrashing about and wrestling with the python of sheets tangled around me. My
cell phone beeped and vibrated along the surface of the bedside table as the
alarm went off. Meanwhile, my heart pounded in my throat. In my mind’s eye, all
I could see was my mother sinking further and further into the river.

Goddammit,
I thought, vigorously rubbing the tears from my eyes. Would my dreams ever stop
transforming into nightmares—reminders that I had failed to see that my mother
was in crisis, that I had failed to save her?

I strained to hear Ben bounding up the stairs to
see what the yelling was about, but there was only silence. Had I only cried
out in my dream? “Ben?” I called, loudly enough for him to hear me if he was
awake. Still no response.

So he was still asleep. That was odd. Ben told me
he’d never lost the early-riser habit he had developed in the Marine Corps. I
turned off my cell phone alarm, put on my robe and slippers, and padded down
the stairs. But he wasn’t on the sofa, where I’d left him the night before. In
fact, he was nowhere.

I scanned the first floor of my tiny row house and
found a note he’d left on the coffee table. “Had to go in early. See you at
work. Bring a bag packed for a few days.”

Well, that’s cryptic, I thought as a bud of irritation formed. I flopped
down on the couch and breathed slowly, trying to bring my heart rate back down
to normal after the dream I’d had. “Bring a bag packed for a few days.” But
packed for what? Given how focused he was on my training, I somehow doubted
that Ben was planning a romantic getaway.

I tried Ben’s cell. No answer. I tried Pete’s cell.
Again, no answer. Whatever was happening at the office, it must have been
keeping them both occupied.

At least I had another way to find out what was
going on with Ben. I sat cross-legged on the couch. With my hands resting on my
knees, I closed my eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths. Then I pictured the
filament of light that connected my heart to Ben’s, and focused my mind.

In an instant, the psychic portal between us
opened. As my consciousness reached out and touched his, I fell back against
the couch, struck by the intensity of his emotions. He was worried about
something or someone, and there was a definite sense of urgency. Still, there
was no actual fear. That told me that while some kind of crisis was going on,
at least Ben was safe.

Then his feelings for me crashed through the
portal, flooding me. Whatever else he was dealing with, I was on his mind. Once
again I was overwhelmed by the strength of his feelings. Although I knew the
portal only flowed one way, I tried to send my own feelings back in his
direction. I pulled my consciousness back into my body and opened my eyes.

My gaze immediately settled upon my right hand, and
the exquisite ring Ben had given me the day before. The gold band was carved to
look like two birds in flight, holding a luminous round piece of Scottish agate
with their beaks and the tips of their wings. He’d wanted to give me something
concrete to remind me of how he felt about me when he wasn’t there, to reassure
me when I had worries or doubts. A soft warmth bloomed in my chest as I twirled
the ring slowly around my finger, admiring its craftsmanship. We’d agreed that
I would decide when to tell people that the ring was from him—and that we were
dating. In the meantime, we were keeping both things a secret. I wasn’t quite
ready to go public with our new relationship, and Ben didn’t want me to feel
any pressure.

As I went upstairs and laid my suitcase open on the
bed, I thought about my disturbing dream. My mother’s fall into the water was
obviously a reference to her suicide three months before. But the poisonous
female crab? And Ben stopping me from saving someone’s life? I knew he didn’t
like it when I put myself in danger, but he’d never just let someone drown.

Then again, maybe there’s nothing to decipher, I told myself. Sometimes a dream is just a
dream. I tried to content myself with that thought as I showered,
dressed, and packed in a hurry. I was anxious to get to the office and find out
where we were going—and what crisis had made Ben leave that morning without so
much as giving me a kiss good-bye.

The author
also wrote an imaginary famous Brazilian-American poet, Lewin Lima (see below),
and she shared with us one of his poems. Here it is:

The Desolate Kiss

Your
tongue ran like a stream

across
parched earth, filling in cracks,

opening
all that was closed and locked,

your lips
lending their passion to mine

to speak
again, to cry out.

Yours were
the painstaking fingers

untying
all the knots so tightly wound,

touching
each of the human needs

my body
had forgotten, breathing fire

back into
this warrior’s limbs.

We were
forged together,

a double
helix, as inseparable

as the
building blocks of life,

tumbling
and roaring through the city,

then
sleeping in the dream we made.

So bitter
it is to dream.

Better to
be blank and empty,

sleepwalking
through each day, than to know

the foul
taste of dreams torn away

by the
same lovers who gave them life.

This
beaten dog’s pure and hopeless hope

is kept
alive by my subversive heart:

somewhere
in your mansion of black rooms

there is
one devoted to me, and to regret.

Like a
mystic, I sicken and die with this faith.

-- Anise
Eden as Lewin Lima, for "All the Wounds in Shadow" (The Healing Edge,
#2)

Author Anise
Eden writes The Healing Edge paranormal romantic
suspense series for Diversion Books. She spends most of her time tucked away in
her writing nook imagining things that aren’t there. On those rare occasions
when she emerges from seclusion, Anise may be spotted in coffee shops, staring
at her laptop screen and silently moving her lips as she reviews bits of
dialogue. Although Anise claims that she’s the one in charge, the characters in
her head do sometimes make her laugh out loud at inappropriate
moments. Visit her online at AniseEden.com.